It's the Words We Never Say
by ChasingPerfectionTomorrow
Summary: Hormones, lawsuits, bitterly feuding families, first loves, and an unconventional height difference. What more could anyone possibly want from your average, middle-American high school love story? (A Kili/Tauriel highschool!AU)


**A/N: **I honestly have no idea what this is and it's entirely Irrel's fault because highschool!AU's are so much fun and she's the one who gave me the prompt. SO BLAME HER! Also, this fic will probably be hella cliché but screw it, I'm just here to have a good time man.

Because most Middle-Earthen names don't actually sound so hot in the real world, pretty much everyone but Tauriel got a lame new name. I know they are all highly impressive and creative. Shhhh, shhhhhh.

Anyway, I own nothing and I hope that at least, like, three people enjoy this. (Title taken from the song 'Restless Dreams' by Jack's Mannequin.)

* * *

><p><strong><span>It's the Words We Never Say<span>**

_Well I'm so above you  
>And it's plain to see<br>But I came to love you anyway  
>So you tore my heart out<br>And I don't mind bleeding  
>Any old time to keep me waiting<br>Waiting, waiting._

_Oh, oh-oh I got a love that keeps me waiting  
>Oh, oh-oh I got a love that keeps me waiting<br>I'm a lonely boy  
>I'm a lonely boy<br>Oh, oh-oh I got a love that keeps me waiting._

_-Lonely Boy, The Black Keys_

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>auriel woke up early to make coffee, the sun only barely peeking from between her thin bedroom curtains as excitement leapt in her heart. It was the first day of her Junior year of high school and she wanted a little peace and quiet before Logan and her step-father got up. She needed some alone time to work on the anxious knot that had been tightening in her belly since last night over dinner.

Today was the start of a new year, the start of tests and homework and meetings and planning. But also of something new and fresh.

This year was going to be perfect.

This year was going to be amazing.

Tossing a thin robe around her shoulders, she grabbed her phone and padded down the hall, tucking her long red hair into a messy bun atop her head as she walked. The large three story house was completely silent as she descended the steps from the third floor and shuffled into the kitchen. Dozens of sky lights guided her path -electrical light was only to be used when absolutely necessary. To say her step-family was energy conscious was a _bit_ of an understatement.

Slipping her favorite flavor of coffee (caramel) into the Keurig, she flipped on her phone and searched for the perfect song to start her day with. She eventually settled on 'Count Me In', by the Early Winters and slid her phone into the pocket of her robe as the coffee machine bubbled happily. Humming, she set about making lunch for herself, her step-brother, and her step-father. Logan would certainly appreciate it, but her step-father would probably just smile kindly and take it dutifully and then she'd find the paper bag in the back of his IQ the next time she rode in it. But it was the thought that counted. Right?

Tauriel swayed on her feet, singing softly under her breath as she filled plastic bags with organic fruits and veggies, her heart buoyant and hopeful. She loved school. The classes, the people she'd known all her life, the rigorous schedules and challenges -it was _heaven_. It was also Logan's last year at Stonemedow High and as much as she dreaded his departure, she had a feeling their last year together was going to be the best yet. He'd go off to Harvard or maybe even Oxford and she'd follow behind the year after. Everything was perfect, everything planned and decided, now all she had to do was make it happen.

Twirling on her feet as the song switched to something a little more upbeat, she didn't hear Logan come in.

"You're up early," he commented dryly, leaning on the counter behind her and rubbing the heel of his palm sleepily against his eye as she flushed with embarrassment. His long platinum blonde hair was messy about his face and shoulders, a white shirt and pajama bottoms crumpled against his lithe frame. Somehow he still managed to look like a super model and it was beyond unfair.

Where Logan and his dad were fair and light, Tauriel was red and ruddy with skin that liked to freckle and burn rather than tan, and eyes that settled somewhere between green and brown; the spitting image of her mother in the same way that Logan was a slightly shorter version of his father. It was no wonder Terrance had a hard time looking her in the eye. She was sure that her existence was little more than a painful reminder of all that he had lost. It was one of the many things she and Logan had in common. There were each living reminders of the two women Terrance Greenleaf had loved and lost.

Biting her lip and switching off her music she poured some coffee into a mug. "Want some," she asked as he peaked into his lunch bag.

"You know that stuff is terrible for you," he grumbled as he grabbed an apple from the fridge and she rolled her eyes. The Keurig had been her Christmas present last year and he and Terrance treated it like a ticking bomb which had been banished to the furthest corner of the kitchen. They were both vegans and very anti ingesting-anything-that-messes-with-your-body but she'd been known to sneak a steak or cheese burger when she went out with her friends. And coffee was the _life giver_.

"I'm gonna go shower," she called over her shoulder, sipping tentatively at the steaming brew as it scalded her tongue. No sugar, no milk, just pure, bitter fantasticness.

Logan grunted an inarticulate response as he made his way to basement where they kept all their exercise equipment. He was not a morning person in the same way she was like Cinderella; midnight rolled around and her carriage turned back into a pumpkin. Together they managed to balance the level of total grumpiness in the house pretty well.

Dressed and showered, excitement bubbling in her throat, Tauriel came down stairs an hour later with her bag slung over her shoulder. Terrance was seated at the wide marble bar sipping on almond milk and reading the news on his iPad. He was dressed in a perfect and expensive gray suit with his fair, shoulder length hair combed back and caught in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. He glanced up at her briefly as she entered the kitchen. Logan was nowhere to be seen and she hoped he wouldn't spend forever primping –he spent nearly _twice_ the amount of time she did in the bathroom. Being late for their first day of school was currently at the top of her 'things we must not do this year' list.

"I made you lunch," she told her step-father as she fished the paper bag out of the fridge.

"Thank you," he responded and it was a robotic, automatic sound.

"I have a student council meeting tonight, you know, first day of school and all" she told him, setting the bag beside him on the bar. She tried not to think back on other first days, when she and Logan had been no more than ten and Terrance and her mother had lined them up at the door, laughing and smiling as they took pictures and tucked loose hairs back into place. Tauriel couldn't remembered the last time they'd taken anything resembling a family photo.

He didn't look up, fingers swiping lazily over the tablet screen. "Call home if you need the driver to pick you up," he said blandly.

"I can walk," she said, shoving her own lunch into her worn bag, "no big deal."

"Good girl," he replied with real approval, which disappeared as soon as he looked up again and took in her outfit of old, faded shorts, a loose fitted t-shirt that said 'Always' in big black letters with the Deathly Hollows symbol on it, ratty old Chuck-Taylors, and the messenger bag she'd had since her freshmen year. At least she'd blow dried her hair and braided a few sections away from her face.

Terrance said nothing but pursed his lips and looked away. He'd long given up on trying to instill in her what he believed to be 'true' fashion sense, but she was well aware it still rankled him. Tauriel let him have his way for any big important functions but otherwise, despite how much she wished to please him, she tried to stay true to herself.

"See you tonight," she said, trying to not make it sound like a question.

Terrance gave a non-committal hum of response, finger ever swiping, and she left the kitchen without another word. Things had been rough for her step-father the past few months. His company, Greenleaf Environments, was fighting a new mining company that was set to begin their operations any day now. It was a bitter battle that, from what snippets she'd gathered, Terrance was set to lose. And Terrance _never_ lost.

As she entered the foyer there was an ache in her heart that had been ever present since the day her mother had died three years ago, but she pushed it aside because today was going to be a _good_ day. She'd had enough bad days to last a life time. She was ready for a little light and happiness in her life.

A moment later Logan came down the steps, dressed in fitted jeans and a nice but casual button up. He liked to wear his hair loose, swinging near his chin and tucked up behind his ears –she knew the girls at school liked it too and suspected Logan was well aware. He looked great, fresh and handsome and she could almost hate him for it. She looked like a giant dork next to him.

"Ready?" she asked, trying not to appear anxious.

Logan smirked and rolled his eyes, seeing right through her as usual. "If we hurry, you can grab a coffee on the way."

Tauriel grinned gratefully and bounced up to kiss him on the cheek, leaving him with a strangely flustered look on his face. "You're the best, Logs."

"Can this be the year you _don't_ call me that?" he begged as they left the house, the mid-May morning still a little chilled but bright and cheerful. She stood in the driveway and took a long, deep breath.

"You'll always be _Little Logging Logan _to me," she said in mocking singsong.

"Whatever you say Tartar Sauce," he shot back and dodged the rock she threw at him with a laugh.

"Come on, we better hurry, we both know you'll _die_ if we're late," he said and lopped an arm casually about her shoulders.

This was going to be a great year, she decided.

No, the _best_ year.

* * *

><p>Kelan grunted miserably as his alarm blared in his ear like a fog horn. He blinked into horrified wakefulness as he realized it actually <em>was <em>a fog horn with his grinning twin brother at the other end.

"What the hell Fee!" he cried as he sat up in his messy bed and covered his ears uselessly, his brain rattling around in his skull. Smirking, his brother eased his finger slowly off the trigger.

"You were supposed to be up twenty minutes ago," his _slightly_ elder brother said. He was fully dressed in dark wash jeans and a worn Cubs t-shirt, his corn-yellow hair artfully mussed.

Kelan experienced a familiar sinking sensation in his gut. "Wait, what time is it?"

"Six forty," Felan replied cheerfully.

"Shit!" he cried and threw off the blankets, scattering records and papers in all directions, and fumbled down the hall to their shared bathroom in nothing but his boxer-briefs. He'd _meant_ to go to bed early last night but then he'd heard this great song on Spotify and then the ideas wouldn't stop rumbling around in his head until he got them all out and really, who cared about the first day of sophomore year anyway? Especially in as small a town as _Stonemedow_.

Population 8,000.

Hurray.

His took the quickest shower of his life and threw on yesterday's clothes, which consisted of holey jeans, a Black Keys t-shirt, and a flannel button up with his black combat boots. He barely bothered to drag a comb through his messy, dark curls and shoved his leather wallet into his back pocket. Avoiding the stacks of boxes and junk piled in his path like land-mines, he almost made it to the door with Felan at his heels before his mother caught them.

"Not so fast dudes," Desiree Oakenshield said casually from the cluttered kitchen table. She was dressed in business casual slacks and a bright blue blouse, a bagel in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. Her hair, which was dark and curly like his, had been carefully braided and piled atop her head, angular face sharp and commanding even so early in the morning. There was a reason his mother was such a notorious business tycoon and part of it was because she looked the part.

Kelan groaned, his hand lingering hopefully on the doorknob. "Come on Mom, we're already going to be late-"

"Should've thought of that before you decided' not to set an alarm for your first day of school," his mother informed him, her eyes flashing.

"It's not that I decided _not _to set it so much as I-"

His mother waved her hand dismissively. "I want you guys home early tonight, your Uncle arrives this afternoon."

Kelan and Felan exchanged an excited grin. Uncle Theron was the _best_. He was always willing to secretly share a beer with his young nephews or take them to fancy sporting or music events, and now they would be _living_ with him. Or he with them, Kelan wasn't exactly sure of the particulars. Everything had happened so fast; the business deal, the move from Chicago to rural Illinois in the middle of buttfucknowhere –his head was still spinning

"You got it mom," Felan called and then opened the door, all but shoving Kelan out of the house.

"Love you!" they cried in unison.

"Don't get into any trouble you two," she shouted a second before the door shut behind them, "and that goes double for you Kelan!"

They took off down the street, a quaint, picturesque stretch of homes that made something deep in Kelan's heart cringe. In Chicago they'd lived in an up-and-coming neighborhood full of cool shops and homes and apartments. Now he felt like he were stepping into a Martha Stewart magazine in the worst possible way.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his fraying bag and lit one up, inhaling and feeling measurably better.

"You know mom is going to figure out you're smoking again eventually, right?" Felan commented dryly, pulling a disgusted face as he swatted at the cloud of smoke.

Kelan shrugged indifferently, thrusting his free hand into his pocket. It was much warmer here than in Chicago but there was still a little bit of a bite in the air. "She usually does."

"I don't understand how you can smoke those disgusting things."

"And I don't understand how you can listen to Pit Bull. Live and let live I say."

Felan rolled his eyes and tugged the cigarette from Kelan's mouth and crushed it under his pristine tennis shoe. "I promised mom I wouldn't let you get suspended your first day of school, so give yourself cancer tomorrow."

They were fraternal twins and were almost the complete opposites in both appearance and behavior. Felan (he _still_ didn't understand why their mother had cursed them with near identical names. It was basically the bane of his existence) was the poster boy for the all 'American white boy' with his golden hair and bright blue eyes. He played football and talked about serving in the armed forces to 'protect his country' and then going to business school to help his Uncle run the family business. Perfect. Wonderful, _perfect_ Felan.

Kelan on the other hand was dark and brooding in both appearance and attitude. He preferred what his brother called 'depressing music,' obscure books and poetry, and playing his violin alone in his room. Life never went the way he wanted it to so he hadn't given much thought to 'life after high school' and didn't really think it mattered either way. Life would just happen and he'd figure it out when he got there. When his mother had all but forced him to pick an extracurricular activity this year –clearly hoping he'd choose football- he'd thwarted her by joining the tiny Archery team.

But for all their differences, they were brothers and Felan was his best, and possibly only, friend.

"Listen, Kee," Felan said as they rounded the street corner. The school was already in sight and Kelan could make out the horde of students as they hurried to campus, several of whom walked nearby, eying them cryptically. "Can you maybe just, I don't know, try harder this year?"

Kelan groaned loud and long and his brother nudged him irritably. "I mean it man. Mom was already talking about sending you off to that private school in Main if you don't get your shit together this year."

Scuffing his boot on the sidewalk, Kelan ducked his head and grunted even as his heart sank.

"Just -I know this place _looks_ lame," his brother continued, "but at least give it a shot before you burn the gym down or whatever."

Kelan smirked coolly, shoving his anger aside and replacing it with his trademark snark. He just needed to get through a few more years. A few more terrible, awful years and then he could bail to LA or somewhere, anywhere. "I promise to wait at least two weeks before I burn down any public buildings."

Fee grunted and was clearly trying to fight back a smile. "We've got a new start here, _little _bro. Let's make the most of it, alright?" he said with real emotion now, a plaintive look in his eyes that Kelan was powerless to ignore. The last few years, since their dad had died, had been rough on all of them. Not that they talked about it. They _never_ talked about it. But it lingered unspoken at the back of almost every conversation, haunting them as effectively as any ghost might have.

Kelan sighed, collapsing into himself. "Alright, alright already. I get it. It's either better grades and no more suspensions or some frozen dungeon-school in the north."

"An all _dudes_ frozen dungeon-school in the north," Felan corrected with a smirk.

"Jesus, I'll sign up for the bloody student council and join track or something."

Fee snorted. "You hate running."

"Yes," Kelan agreed, "But I love the ladies _more_."

"You're impossible."

"I'm also _your_ brother," he said cheekily and wrapped his arm around Fee's neck who made a show of pushing him off with a laugh. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad here, his traitorous mind reasoned. Maybe his brother was right and they could have a new, better start.

"I'm still convinced you were adopted," Fee said as the first bell rang and they picked up the pace.

"Well, I _am_ way better looking."

"Jerk."

"Ass."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** You know it's a good chapter when it ends with a curse word. Reviews are lovely and be as critical and cruel as you must. I CAN HANDLE IT. (Also, keeping their names right is going to literally be the death of me. Literally.)


End file.
